something better
by inflowers
Summary: maybe luke has something better than he's ever had before. luke/reid


He drops the razor into the water, swishing it backwards and forwards as he watches the white foam trail across the water.

Taking it out again, he shakes it twice and looks up at Reid. He tries not to smile too brightly, Reid is always insistent that they keep the over the top displays of love to a minimum, even in the privacy of their own home.

Their own home. Their own bathroom. Their own bathtub.  
It never fails to make Luke smile, trying to subdue the butterflies flittering around in the pit of his stomach. He's never done anything like this before.  
Truthfully, he doesn't much care for baths. Something about the idea of sitting in your own filth offends his hygienic nature. No, Luke much prefers a quick shower. In and out, maybe with a quick blow job thrown in for good measure.

But he's never been that big on the bathtub.  
Although somehow, this has become a weekly routine. Usually on the weekends, when they don't have anything else to do, Luke finds himself sandwiched between the edge of the bath with Reid's legs split either side of him. It's not a bad view.  
If they're both being honest, this is their favourite time of the week. It's quiet in their apartment, with nothing but the sloshing of water to accompany their voices. And it's during these moments as Luke traces Reid's face with the razor that they talk, really talk. Not just passing comments to one another on the couch, or text messages peppered with sexual tension. But really talk about their weeks, their lives, and as cliched as it sounds, their hopes and dreams. Luke is much more vocal during those conversations than Reid is, but neither of them mind.  
But this particular Sunday morning finds them chatting idly, both of them end of the week tired and just content in the languid nature of their conversation.  
"We're having dinner with Grandmother on friday, don't forget." Luke speaks softly, concentrating on the task as he deftly moves across Reid's chin.  
Reid nods appreciatively, letting out a small "Mmmhmm."  
"And I dropped off your dry cleaning. But I don't think I got your grey shirt. I'll drop it off this week sometime."  
"No hurry." Reid shrugs gently, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on Luke's lips.  
"Reid!" Luke laughs, pushing him off. "You're getting shaving cream all over my face."  
"Want me to get something else on your face?" Reid asks, lifting an eyebrow seductively.  
"What do you want to do today?" Luke asks, ignoring Reid's suggestive comment as he washes off the razor again, and moves to the other side of Reid's face. "We could go out for breakfast? I promised Noah I'd help him move this afternoon, but I've got all morning free?"  
"Mmph. Noah, huh." Reid mumbles, eyes casting to the side. Suddenly he's not so into their witty banter anymore.  
"Hey, come on." Luke leans forward, wrapping his legs further around Reid and interlocking his ankles. "Don't be like that."  
"Like what?"  
"Jealous." Luke replies simply, still focusing on the shaving foam left on Reid's face.

"I'm not now, nor have I ever been jealous of _Noah_." Reid answers defiantly, but the inflection in his voice is always saying otherwise.

"Okay. Whatever you say." Luke smirks, throwing an eyebrow up and half rolling his eyes in amusement.  
"Please. Why would I be jealous of Mr I Didn't Finish Film School."  
"He was blind, Reid!" Luke laughs, always quick to defend Noah from Reid's playful jabs.  
"Well Mozart was deaf and he still managed."  
"Uh, that was Beethoven." Luke corrects, this time rolling his eyes completely at Reid's so called intellect.  
"You say tomato." Reid shrugs it off, reaching up and running a wet hand through his wetter hair. "You just about done there, kid?"  
"Who are you calling a kid, I've mastered this." Luke replies, wiping the final smudge of cream off Reid's face. "Done!"  
"Well aren't you proud."  
"Very. Hey, you want me to shave anywhere else?" Luke asks laughing, his eyes casting downwards to what he knows is under the water.  
"Not a chance. You think I'm letting Slippery Fingers Snyder get near_ that_ with a razor, you're delusional."  
"Come on, whats the worst that could happen?" Luke replies, innocently batting his eyelashes.  
"Did I ever tell you about that rotation I did in the ER, about how I saw a guy whose wife had insisted on doing _that_ and he ended up sans junk when she was done?"  
"Well, if that happens at least I've still got Noah on the side."  
"Har. Har. So funny." Reid replies drolly. "Not a chance, Luke. That kind of work requires precision. Surgeon hands. I have a gift."  
"Whatever you say, Reid. Whatever you say."

Luke doesn't have the over the top, _I can't live without you, wouldn't want to try_ kind of declarations that he had with Noah. He isn't constantly affirmed by Reid that they're in love and that they're happy, and surprisingly he doesn't feel the need to tell Reid all that often either. They say it occasionally, sometimes just before they slip into sleep, but it's really okay. Because as Luke watches Reid get out of their bath, in their bathroom, in their home, he thinks he's got something better than he could have imagined. A life.


End file.
